with every broken bone (i swear i lived)
by outruntheavalanche
Summary: [Penelope forgets about the awkward conversation with Luke in the immediate aftermath of Phil's senseless murder.] Post-"Luke", pre-relationship


Penelope forgets about the awkward conversation with Luke in the immediate aftermath of Phil's senseless murder. The first week or so after the case, Penelope feels like she's caught up in a cyclone of pain and misery, though having Lou take up residence in her apartment helps distract her when she isn't on the job.

Luke manages to avoid her that first week, after his demotion and then Phil's funeral. She isn't sure if she should be hurt or something, so she just pushes the confusing feelings aside and tells herself that Luke's hurting more than anyone. Penelope's hurt and confusion is nothing compared to Luke's loss.

Penelope's in the break-room, helping herself to some creamer with a dash of coffee when the door opens and Luke shuffles in. He looks like shit with bags under his eyes, his hair unkempt, five o'clock shadow dusting his jawline.

Swallowing back a sigh, Penelope tears her eyes away from Luke and turns her full attention to her coffee.

Seeing Luke just makes her think about Phil, and thinking about Phil makes her sad. Penelope doesn't like to be sad.

"G'morning," Luke mutters.

Penelope looks over at him. He fiddles with a mug and some packets of sugar.

"Morning," Penelope says, in as chipper a tone as she can manage. "How're you d—"

"Can we not?" Luke asks, setting the mug down. "I'm sorry, Garcia, but I'm really not in the mood for small talk right now."

Penelope looks back down at her coffee, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she says.

"I know," Luke says. "I'm sorry too, it's just… This sucks."

Penelope reaches out and gives Luke's hand a brief squeeze. "I know," she says. "People like to say it gets easier with time. Maybe that's true for some people, but in my experience… It doesn't get easier. The pain gets quieter. Sometimes you even forget about it and then you find your mom's favorite potholder in the laundry and suddenly it's time for the waterworks."

Penelope lifts her head and meets Luke's weary gaze. She manages a smile that Luke mirrors back at her, thinly.

"Garcia, there's something I need to tell you," Luke says, after a few seconds of contemplative silence.

"Yeah?" she asks, picking up her coffee and sipping.

"I lied earlier," he says. "About Phil not asking about you."

Penelope doesn't quite catch on at first. Then Luke's words fall on her head like heavy, fat raindrops. "You what? Why?"

Luke laughs, a hollow, sad sound. "I…I don't know, Garcia. I thought I did, but I don't."

It's not good enough, either as an explanation or an apology but Penelope doesn't want to fight with him. Not now, when they're both hurting, and Penelope is liable to say something she may end up regretting.

Instead, she finds herself dwelling on Phil.

Oh, Phil.

She hadn't known him that long or that well, but she could have. If Luke had just told her Phil liked her, maybe they could have been something to each other than associates through their mutual friendship with Luke. They could have become genuine, honest-to-God friends, maybe more.

And now Penelope will never know what could have been.

A flash of sudden anger heats Penelope's cheeks. "You had no right," she says, her eyes welling. Her hands start to shake so she clamps them even more tightly around her mug.

"I know," Luke says, having the gall to sound regretful. "I've been kicking myself in the ass for it ever since—since Phil—" He stops short, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm sorry I lied."

Penelope looks away, forcing down an unwelcome surge of sympathy for Luke. "I'm still mad at you," she says, finally forcing herself to look at him.

"I know," Luke says. "And you got every right. If you want me to just back off, stay out of your life, I will."

Sighing, Penelope sets her mug aside and forces herself to meet Luke's eyes again. They burn into her like coals, hot and insistent. Like he wants an answer from her.

She reaches out and takes his hand loosely in hers.

"I'm still mad at you. And I'm hurt, I'm sad… I'm not ready to forgive you," she admits, giving Luke's hand a light squeeze. "But I will be, eventually. I don't hold grudges. I just need time to…to process."

Luke squeezes Penelope's hand back. "I'll take it," he says, finally, after a long silence. "You need time. And space. I get it."

Penelope smiles what feels like her first real, genuine smile in weeks. "Thanks, Luke," she says. "For understanding."

"And thanks for being willing to give me another shot," he says, letting go of her hand. "I'll get out of your hair."

Luke slips out of the break-room and Penelope turns her attention back to her coffee, picking up some more sugar packets and ripping them open. After she dumps them in her now-lukewarm coffee, Penelope takes a sip.

It'll definitely take some time, and more than a few pretty words, but she doesn't want to be upset with Luke. She can't help but think of what could have been with Phil. It wasn't all on Luke for not telling her Phil was into her, but Penelope could have taken the initiative. She could have told Phil she liked him, but she was too scared about being wrong to put herself out on a limb.

"Never again," Penelope tells herself, finishing her coffee. "You take the bull by the horns next time, Penelope Garcia."

Well, it would take a little more than a half-hearted pep talk in the break-room, but Penelope figures it's a start.


End file.
